Is the world really that bad?

Lately I’ve been pondering human kind. I don’t mean that I’ve spent my time wondering about human wickedness and its evidence in war, pollution, ethnic cleansing, murder, or the rising price of a slushie. I mean that I can’t understand why someone would prefer to spend his or her time in front of an LCD screen, giving permission to some anonymous web-based, distant human interaction on MyTube or YouSpace, instead of listening to their favorite artist or band in crystal clarity at high volume while carving up a winding less-traveled piece of asphalt. What’s happening to this world?

I grew up in the city. I’m well aware that somewhere on the fabric of space-time, over the seam and around the hem, there’s a memory of the roads you once enjoyed driving on. And now that same feeling, the one you remember; the freedom of driving carefree; crossing over into the on-coming lane without concern of anyone there to straighten out the curve in achievement of higher g-forces; looking over your shoulder into the setting sun while flooring the vertical pedal on the right to get a reference point for judging your speed; screaming at the top of your lungs in-time with the percussionist’s aerobic crescendo while the rhythm guitar keeps your heart beating faster than the sound of the double-line reflectors bu-bumping under the over inflated tires is gone it seems. Every morning more and more people clog the motorways, jam the drive-throughs, hog the right-of-ways, and obstruct the overpasses that we used to enjoy driving on. It’s not fun anymore.

I grew up in the seventies and eighties. I’m well aware that Quadraphonic 8-Track sound was all the rage in 1970. And there’s a memory of the sound your Pioneer speakers made in your ’65 Falcon. And now that same feeling, the one you remember; broadcasting the Beatles’ sound at your favorite burger joint; attracting the girls with the smell of Canoe cologne; impressing the guys with your 12 second track times in your four-speed, posi-traction, 383 four-barrel; gathering with multiple couples at the drive-in to see Katherine Ross seducing her amour away from her mother is gone it seems. Artists now-a-days are crying about their intellectual property rights while living in posh, Lake Havasu mansions; car manufacturers are crying about the cost of efficiency while increasing vehicle sizes to near-gargantuan capacity; and English Leather smells like 40 year-old whale puke. It’s not the same anymore.

I grew up with computers. I’m well aware that Zork will forever hold a place in your imagination, that games like Halo, The Sims, and Warcraft won’t ever begin to penetrate. And now that same feeling, the one you remember; spending days in your room on the Commodore 64 with a shoebox of 5 ¼ inch floppys and your 1342 joystick ready at your command; learning every nuance of the ups, downs, and ABs of Nintendo’s cheat codes; overclocking your processor and liquid cooling your motherboard to get that high-res image in your favorite fighting, shoot-em up, role playing adventure; converting your WMAs to MP3s so you can listen to the entire collection of Pink Floyd on one CDR; logging on to your favorite LUG for support when a video driver is giving your open source OS issues is gone it seems. You’d rather purchase a fully loaded HP at the box store than spend your time building a supercomputer that requires drilling your own mounting points for the flash reader. It doesn’t matter any more.

I grew up with car audio. I’m well aware that the Linear Power 5002iq was the “best sounding amp of all time.” And there’s a memory burned in your head of Zack De La Rocha wailing vociferously through your Boston Acoustics Rally Series components. And now that same feeling, the one you remember; drooling over the ADS 320i componets in the Porsche demo car at your favorite late 80s car audio shop; out-bassing the guy with the two Kicker 15s and the Hifonics Zeus amp in the home-coming parade with your Earthquake 12s in a 6th order quasi-parametric bandpass on a US Amps 400vlx; earning a trophy at the Daytona Beach Spring Break Nationals in the Amateur 0-100 watts class with a PPI 2050DM amp and G & S Redline speakers; earning the respect of your peers with your tech savviness; staying up late to finish the install on your 13 channel, DTS, Dolby Pro Logic 7.1 frequency dependent, 8 position time delayed, surround sound, actively crossed-over high fidelity in-car theater system is gone it seems. Now it’s Bluetooth cell phone conversations, factory headunits that can’t be removed, satellite radio and the IPOD revolution. And it’s great!

Come on people. Get out of mouse arrest. Cars are still the greatest piece of personal freedom that exists in your grasp. There are roads you haven’t been down yet. The old days weren’t better than today. It’s a figment of the human imagination to imagine that it was better then than it is now. Sure, you can Google (it’s a freaking verb….) anything on the planet at any given time. You don’t need to know how to spell, because Merriam-Microsoft will auto-correct the recipe for Duck a L’orange before you can hit the enter key. I know JL Audio is not what it’s hyped up to be (neither was Rockford Fosgate). But you can grab your IPOD, hit the start button on your S2000′s dash, and be listening to Tchaikovsky’s Sixth on your way to SEE one of your electronic superhighway cohorts as soon as you walk away from the irritainment box. Hit the road Patterson.